Dissonance Theory

The Scientist fiddled with the knobs and dials, adjusting the frequency of the spectrograph. The sonic wavelength rose and fell as the subatomic particle vibrated dissonantly. He theorized that another world could exist within a single harmonic note. The sustained tone warbled against the microphones, being split and dissected into analog pieces. His choice of music happened to be the climactic moment of a song his ex-wife favored. Finally, he had a breakthrough.

He recorded his results onto two separate listening devices. He added a stimulus to one and left the other in a controlled environment. The goal was to get the loop of noise to react to the world. To prove the reaction he measured its diversity from the original. It had subtly changed. They were communicating. He downloaded the living music into a portable audio device and left to show his associate, Dr. Darjeeling.

Sitting on a park bench, awaiting the Doctor’s arrival, he noticed another strange and unexpected occurrence. The vibration in the headphones was now reacting to him. He could focus on an emotion and it would respond to it. The species of this world had developed a telepathic technology in their crude dimension of sound. It only made sense. They spoke on a subsonic level. Thoughts must vibrate on the same level. He would need to open his self to their transmission. Surprisingly, this was easier than he thought.

The bench faded away to a new bench in another place, a relic of his world bridging the gap between. He stood and walked across colors. He watched strange plants grow to full blossom in seconds. They died and bloomed again and again, multiple times in under a minute, evolving noticeably. No wonder they had figured a way to speak with him so quickly. An entire generation occurred in such rapid succession. Compared to his own perspective of a generation, he viewed their world much like an oak tree would view ours.

He came to a grove with a tree. The tree pulsed with the original warble. The flowers worshipped the tree. The branches split and grew, canvassing the sky. When he stepped among them the plants nearest him mimicked his presence. They created themselves in his image. The first woman rose from the beds. Flocks of men bounded from the tree to investigate. They greeted him with the possibility of being a new tree. A choice of black or white was asked of the Scientist. He interpreted these coats as tuxedos. Not knowing which to rationally choose, he guessed the black using his gut instincts. This was correct. They danced around him. They prostrated before their new god. He had not replaced the tree as much as he was sent as a messenger of the tree.

He stood among the people, who continued to evolve based upon his leadership. He was proud of their progress. They had begun to create rituals for him. Instead of growing from the ground like a plant, men and women would place birdcages on their partner’s head. Arm in arm they would dance away from the group. They would bring new versions of their union to worship him when they returned. The line between being proud and overwhelmed with pride was crossed. The ego of the Scientist inflated. He realized this when a woman from the community offered him a birdcage like a common citizen.

He did not realize it at first. At first he accepted graciously. She placed the birdcage on his head and he did likewise to her. She looped her arm in his. By this time all of the females looked exactly like his ex-wife. The public cheered at the special occasion. They had risen to his acceptance as equals. They had evolved to the ranks of gods. He was happy. The pride had not yet perverted this feeling.

Doctor Darjeeling tapped the Scientist on the shoulder, pulling him back into the mundane world. He was sitting on the park bench again. The Doctor asked to listen to this alternate dimension, but could not hear it. All he heard was radio static. He could not understand their voices.

The Scientist tried to kiss his bride, but the cage interfered. Although they were unified, they were still separated. He could not completely embrace her or this world. He had his own life to live. The dissatisfaction spread. The people hung on the edge of revolt. He removed the birdcage. This had never been done before. The people halted in their dance. Their bright colors faded to dark. The woman at his side placed her hands to the cage. She tried to wipe the tears from her eyes, but could not reach them. She knelt in frustration and died. Her body lay on top of the white tuxedo.

Angry, the Scientist threw the cage to the ground. He now wore the white tuxedo. He knew their meanings. One was the symbol of acceptance. The other was the symbol of rejection. He rejected their world. As the thought arose the people fell. Each covered the eyes of their corpse with the white suit before they faded away. Even the flowers disappeared into a blanket of white noise. Only the tree stood. The branches had withered. The sky was visible and the same as the ground underneathe. Up and down ceased to exist. The tree spread infinitely in two directions as a single pulse, the original note from his ex-wife’s song. Nothing else remained.

He listened to it again. He did not notice it at first. It had changed. It was no longer the original tone at the climax of the song. It was the very next note. It was the first note in the falling action, reaching for an epilogue.